Unnatural: Scourge of the Slen'darr
by Spence The Prince
Summary: A new take on the legend of the Slenderman. Cryptozoologist Jake Reeves visits Germany to investigate a rash of horrendous encounters and deaths. He comes expecting the worst, but nothing can possibly prepare him for what lies at the heart of the Black Forest...
1. Chapter 1: Contact

Unnatural

Chapter 1: Contact

There was an air of duty as I dressed and geared up. Flashlight, night vision camera, EMF detector… This was my job. I took pride in it, and took it very seriously. My name is Jake Reeves, a cryptozoologist by trade and a traveler by nature. Basically, my job is to travel to unique locations, confirm or debunk the validity behind the paranormal, and discover the truth. And I had an errand.

Since the 1500s, a mysterious figure has appeared in woodcuts, drawings, and paintings the world over. The figure has been known to embody Death, and in its most famous depiction (the Germanic woodcut "Der Ritter"), the creature is seen murdering a German knight using only a grotesquely elongated forearm. In almost all contexts, the figure was inhumanly tall, thin, often had long, thin extra arms or tentacles, and had an iconic blank face. For decades, there had been sightings, footage, disappearances, and many unexplained deaths. And it had taken to wearing a suit and tie.

It was known worldwide as Slenderman.

It seemed to target children, but many adults had become victims as well. At the moment, I was on a plane to Germany, where a recent rash of encounters, centered around the Black Forest, had broken out.

When I arrived, I was escorted to a four-star hotel and had what was very possibly the best room service I have ever had. I didn't know enough German to understand what little was on TV, so I decided to shower and call it a day. I would start my investigation the next day, but for now, rest and relaxation would prepare me for whatever lay ahead.

My night was riddled with countless nightmares. Dark visions of blurry figures moving about in a huge, dank cavern; pine trees silhouetted against the full moon; skeletons innumerable stacked to the ceiling of a cave; and finally, a featureless face.

I woke in a cold sweat. I glanced around the lavish room to make sure I wasn't still dreaming, then looked at the clock. Five in the morning. I rose and dressed, gathered my equipment, and left. In the parking lot outside the front doors sat a brand-new, fully outfitted Jeep. I stood, stupefied, until I noticed a note on the windshield.

"Many thanks to you for your will to help us, Mister Reeves. This was the least we could do. We are forever in your debt. Sincerely, the citizens of the Black Forest community."

_These people must be living in complete fear of this thing,_ I thought. I looked around, and, not seeing anyone to thank, decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. A few minutes later, I was on the road.

I reached the outskirts of the Black Forest within half an hour. The wood was immense; it took me until around midday to reach the approximate center of the forest. I came upon a viable campsite, a sunlit clearing, a couple hundred feet off the main path. Then, after securing a perimeter, I set up camp. I had brought a thermal-control tent, surveillance equipment, a cooler full of nonperishable food, emergency equipment, a survival knife, and a .357 Magnum, just in case. After pitching the tent, I set up cameras on the trees surrounding my camp. I spent the rest of the daylight hours scouting the woods, capturing test footage, and checking the cameras every now and then. Returning to camp, I built a fire; night was falling fast. After a dinner of baked beans, I read a few chapters from a western novel I'd brought. Around nine thirty, I quenched the fire, went inside the tent, and, slowly but surely, fell asleep.

I had slept around four hours when a sound woke me. Having realized the danger of a mountain lion or bear attack, I reached calmly under my pillow and gripped my handgun. The knife was already in a sheath on my belt. I had made a habit of sleeping fully dressed when camping, so I stepped outside the tent, Magnum held high.

A figure crouched beside the ashes of the fire, its back to me. The cooler lay open on its side, and most of the food I'd brought was missing. Most of the figure was indiscernible, but I could just make out a pale-skinned, bald-headed human figure. A lost, disgruntled hiker? Some kind of fugitive, perhaps? In a calm, low voice, I spoke. "Get off my campsite." I leveled the gun, aimed at the head. The man made an odd grunting noise. "I really don't wanna have to use this, mister." I cocked the gun. And the man turned.

There was no face.

Visible veins throbbed beneath translucent, spongy, white flesh. A high-set ribcage heaved above an oddly thin abdomen. Double-jointed legs, much like a dog's, made the creature seem shorter than it was. Three holes, which I guessed were nostrils of some kind, were situated on either side of the thing's jawbone. Defined arms, much longer than they should be, hung to its shins. The creature's four fingers were each adorned with a razor-sharp claw.

It screeched and took a step toward me. I discharged a round, and the .357 slug slammed into the flesh where the creature's heart should've been. It took a few more steps, groaned, and fell backwards, writhing in agony upon the carpet of pine needles. I approached, chambering another bullet, with extreme caution.

The bullet wound formed a deep, gaping hole in the upper chest. The thing was still barely alive; it's heart must've been located elsewhere. Around the bullet hole and quickly gathering around the body was a pool of bluish, oozing fluid. To the left of the wound was a strange insignia, seemingly burned into the skin. It looked something like a perfect circle, about three inches in diameter, with a large "x" scrawled through the middle. Finally, with a deep heave of the chest, the thing drew its last breath. Now, I could take a closer look, and find out just what this was.

An hour later, after a thorough medical examination, I sat, dumbstruck, beside the corpse. Why had I not seen it before? It was obvious; the face, the build, the sound it had made, all pointed to the answer. Here I was, with my goal lying before me.

I had just shot and killed a Slenderman.

I gathered samples, took pictures, and hid the body. I quickly gathered my equipment and tore down the campsite. The others would come for me soon.

As I loaded the Jeep, I wondered: why had the Slenderman not been wearing a suit? Maybe, I guessed, only certain ones did. I knew that those with suits were usually seen stalking or watching their victims, so those were the ones I would I would most likely be avoiding now. Whatever the case, I needed to get out of there. I had all I needed to prove the legends were true. I could send the photos and samples to the lab, return to the States, and collect my pay. But then suddenly, a horrific screech tore through the trees. I quickly finished loading and hopped into the driver's seat, gunning the engine to life. I glanced in the rearview mirror. I could see the shining white of dress shirts beneath jet black shirts, and the reflective red of neckties. They were moving at a fast pace. I slammed on the gas. The all-terrain tires spun and caught, and the Jeep was on its way down the dangerous alpine trail at fifty miles an hour.

I had one hand on the steering wheel and the other cradling my gun. After about six minutes, I hadn't seen any suits since the campsite, and I started to relax a little. Suddenly, something white flashed out of the underbrush and jumped in front of my Jeep, screaming at me. I panicked, flooring the brake and swerving sharply to the right, unwittingly careening off the rim of a huge ravine. I was airborne for a few seconds, but I had just enough time to bail out. I rolled, head over heels, for a few hundred feet, and came to a violent stop, my head making hard contact with a thick tree trunk. I looked up and saw a huge cavern mouth, just as my vision faded to blackness.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mouth

Chapter 2: The Mouth

I awoke to an overwhelming stench. I waited for my eyes to focus, and then sat up slowly, realizing that my chest bore a remarkable burning sensation. Examining the spot, I saw that the same insignia that the dead Slenderman had displayed was now seared into my flesh. I sat, dazed and confused, for several seconds.

"You are alright, stranger?"

I started, and looked over to my right to see a short, stout, German man sitting on a tree stump, looking concerned and shaken. "Uh…sorry, you startled me…who—who are you?"

He stood. "My name is Herr Kurt Heinreich. I am a teacher at the university."

"I'm Jacob Reeves, a cryptozoologist. Um…what happened?"

"You, sir, are an extremely lucky man. Very few people ever encounter the Tall Men and live to relate the tale. I was taking an early morning hike along these trails, and saw smoke rising up over a faraway ridge. I decided to investigate, and came upon you and the remains of your auto in this…this evil place." He glanced around nervously. "I have been standing guard with your gun all morning." The hand bearing the weapon was shaking.

I rose, painfully, into a crouch. "Thank you, professor. But can I ask you something? The Slendermen are gone now, so why are you afraid?"

The professor glanced around again. "Look around you."

I did, and immediately wished I hadn't.

Ancient, rotting corpses (some bearing modern clothing or even old feudal armor, but most measuring less than five feet) hung from the uppermost arms of the pines, the strong branches piercing their ribcages. Some were so recent as to exhibit mangled flesh dangling from their sun-bleached bones. Most of them had obviously been there for an extremely long time. This was undoubtedly the work of the "Tall Men". Noticing something odd, I stood and took a closer look at the pine trees' thick, red trunks.

_Red trunks._

I pulled away with utter disgust. Much of the trunks' surface area was stained a deep crimson. These trees had been stained red by human blood. The amount of bodies compared to the amount of blood meant that these people had been impaled on the pines while still alive.

I had heard how victims of the Slender were found. That is, if they were ever found at all. Some had been discovered just like this, speared on the highest branches of the evergreens and long since dead from shock and blood loss. Others had been subjected to a more precise, brutal fate. Some corpses had been found in similar conditions to those of cattle after UFO-related "cattle mutilations". Some bodies had never been found.

All these people…taken by the Slender. There were far too many bodies for all of them to have been killed in the Black Forest area, and the age of the bodies varied greatly. This must be some sort of collection area for kills all around Germany. But why were the Slendermen murdering people? For sustenance? For necessity? Or for sport? I had planned on taking the evidence I had collected and returning home, but it was then that I realized that I could never leave Germany until I had discovered the truth about this cryptid scourge.

I turned to Kurt. "I'm going inside the cave. I have no choice. You can come with me if you want, but you have no debt to me."

He looked reluctant for a second, but then he seemed to straighten with new resolve. "I am coming with you, Herr Reeves; not because of any debt, but because I can help you find the truth you seek. With what I know about the Slendermen, I may be able to aid you in this endeavor."

"What do you know about the Slender?"

"Well, their true name is the Slen'darr, but it is a very common mistake. But shortly after I decoded their texts-"

I was shocked. "You learned their language?"

Kurt looked mildly annoyed at being interrupted. "Yes. Well, the written language, at least."

"I apologize. Please continue."

"Anyway, my research has revealed that they are not cryptids at all. They are, in fact, of extraterrestrial origin."

"Aliens…" Now here was a revelation. A small race of alien life forms, living independently in the Black Forest for generations. "That could affect how things turn out. Is there anything else? Did their texts say anything about why they abduct humans?"

"No," he said. "They were mostly about what their world was like. Strange, beautiful, exotic…they want, more than anything, to go back. But for the life of them, they cannot. I do not know why."

I sat down on a stump and considered these new facts. There must have been some sort of motive to the kidnappings and murders; a method to their madness. But no matter what that motive was, it could not be more important than the lives of innocent human beings. I held out my hand, but then reconsidered. "Keep the gun for now. If you see anything dangerous, use it."

"I have never used a gun before, Herr Reeves."

"Point and pull the trigger. Watch the recoil. It's a Magnum, so it packs quite the punch." I smiled cockily, and said, "Took out a Slenderman with one shot at medium range."

He seemed surprised, and impressed. "You seem more qualified to carry this weapon, Herr Reeves. But we should go before they decide to come back and finish what they started."

I pulled out my Bowie knife, and we advanced into the earth's gaping maw. At first, everything was as one would think a cave should be: stalactites and stalagmites protruding from the grey walls of the cavern. The chambers were immense; we proceeded far enough into the cavern to completely extinguish the light cast by the cave's orifice. It was pitch black. I ordered a halt and started to take out my lighter, but then I noticed something odd. There was a dim, red glow around one of the boulders set into a nearby wall. I approached, and examined the rock. It was so heavy as to be impossible to budge. I tried wedging my knife blade into the small, narrow crack between the rock and the cave's wall. I felt it give a little. Combining our strength, Kurt and I pushed at the boulder from the left, and I continued prying at the crack with my blade. I felt something like a latch, and pushed it up. There was a mechanical sound, like a servo, and the rock slid to the left with ease. Behind the boulder was a tall corridor, narrow enough that Kurt and I had to walk in single file. The source of the red glow was revealed to be the tunnel's only light source: a strip of luminescent material, set into the silvery metal walls. _An underground complex? _I thought. _Some sort of nest, or hive?_

Up ahead, the tunnel opened into a large room. We reached the edge of a platform, and peered down into empty, black space. All of a sudden, more light strips powered on, and we couldn't even try to hold in a gasp at what we saw down there. Almost a hundred feet below our niche, congregating like one collective being, swarmed at least three hundred Slen'darr.


	3. Chapter 3: The Lion's Den

Chapter 3: The Lions' Den

Kurt Heinreich and I huddled low on the precipice, peeking over the edge at the teeming masses of alien monstrosities far below. Any moment, I thought, one of the smooth, blank faces would snap in our direction, unseeing but seeing, and it would be curtains for us. Glancing around, I noticed a narrow catwalk connecting our ledge with an adjacent one, across the void. Slowly, deliberately, and extremely carefully, Kurt and I inched along the catwalk. Every few seconds, one or both of us would take anxious, frightened looks at the crowd of shuffling beings beneath us, but none of the Slendermen seemed to take notice of us. _Maybe we're just out of their sensory range_, I thought to myself as we finally reached the door.

The passageway led down to a fork, branching into three adjoining corridors. Strange, alien glyphs covered the doorframes of each entrance. Immediately, Kurt handed me the .357 I had given him, and began inspecting the glyphs. He would occasionally reference a few sheets of paper he kept folded in his breast pocket. I stood guard, aiming the gun down the passage we had just emerged from, and frequently swinging the gun around to peer down the other three tunnels.

The symbols etched onto the doorways were remarkably diverse: some were smooth and spiraling, twisting around each other gracefully, while others were sharp and hard, cutting across other characters abruptly. What struck me most about the lettering was that each character, be it smooth or sharp, evoked a different accompanying emotion. One could almost "feel" what the letters were spelling out. I suspected that fact played a large part in comprehending the Slen'darr language.

After half an hour that seemed like an eternity, Kurt was finished. He folded the reference paper back into his pocket and whispered, "This way." He then started down the hallway to the left.

"Where are we going?" I asked Kurt in a low whisper, as I handed him back the revolver.

"Something they call 'the Core'," Kurt said. "If you really want to stop the Tall Men, I suspect the Core would be the place to do it."

We crept on through the tall, narrow passageway. I realized that bringing more ammunition would have definitely been a good idea; all I had was whatever happened to be in the Magnum at the moment. I checked. A full magazine of six rounds. Maybe I had been too hasty. All I had was my wits and my meager weapons, and here I was trying to single-handedly protect a German town from an alien menace.

_Aliens._ The fact that I was now thinking of that word as a fact of life seemed almost comical to me at the time. A mere day before, I hadn't even believed there were such things.

"Wait." Kurt held up his hand, cautioning. I kept quiet, straining to see clearly down the long, dark corridor. Out of an adjoining hallway stepped one of _them._ One of the Tall Men. A Slenderman. They were no less terrifying the second time around. The monstrous creature abruptly stopped and stood motionless, its left shoulder facing us. It raised its head, like a snake tasting the air, and held that position silently. Suddenly, its hideous head jerked around to stare blankly at us, and we could see its six nostrils heaving at our scent. It started toward us.

"Run," I said to Kurt as I started flattening against the wall.

"What!" the stout German gasped. The thing walked faster, more suspiciously.

"Run! Now!" I repeated urgently.

Heinreich turned and sprinted back down the hallway. I remained flattened against the cold gray wall, perfectly motionless. The Slenderman broke into an odd gallop, making guttural breathing sounds. I subtly unclipped the latch on my sheath.

My arm flew out of cover just as the beast passed my position. The six-inch hunting knife in my hand flashed out of the darkness, and buried itself in the creature's face. The blow broke its momentum, and I drove the monster to the ground with a well-executed clothesline technique. I pinned it there with my blade as a dark liquid sprayed from its nostrils. The otherworldly creature struggled, convulsed, and made a few odd groans. Finally, its chest heaved, brackish fluid seeped out of the open wound, and the body went limp.

My hands were shaking as I cleaned off the viscous black liquid that covered the blade. Kurt came panting back, and I noticed him looking between me and the dead Slenderman with something between awe and fear. We continued down the hallway.

The further we went, the darker and bleaker our surroundings grew. The futuristic halls slowly transformed into rough, carved-out cavern tunnels. The Slen'darr glyphs that before were smooth and intricate were now the alien equivalent of gothic boldface. We passed other chambers, which were so black that no human eye could hope to discern what lay within. It soon became so dark that I had to use a lighter to see just a few steps ahead of us. We crossed a threshold, and we stopped short.

The sphere of illumination cast by my meager flame shed light on a horrendous sight. As far as we could make out in the inky blackness, there stretched a mountain of desecrated human corpses. Bodies of all shapes and sizes—some untouched, some impaled, some dissected, and some nothing more than bones—lay piled upon one another. The bodies ranged from being killed very recently to being more than a couple hundred years old. They were adorned by everything from polo shirts to lederhosen to rusty iron armor. The Slen'darr had killed so many…and this probably wasn't the only cave. I shuddered. I looked at Kurt, whose mouth was open in horror, but then shut it quickly when the stench hit him.

"Let us remove ourselves. This is a place of death," he said solemnly. I nodded in agreement, and we turned, taking the passage at our left, which led downward steeply.

We began to notice a light source, further down the tunnel. It was a soft, yet somehow intense, blue light. As we got closer, the light grew in brightness and intensity until it was so bright, it seemed to envelope us in its glory.

We stumbled blindly through the doorway.

The hard blue light seemed to be coming from a gargantuan object in the center of the huge, disc-shaped room. It was cylindrical, with thick cables connecting it to complicated consoles and readouts all around the chamber. It was made of a dark grey metal, maybe titanium, with slots that emitted repeating waves of the light we had seen in the tunnel. There were about eight Slen'darr in the room, all hard at work at computer consoles.

I crouched behind a work terminal, and whispered, "That thing looks volatile. If I can get you to one of those consoles, do you think you could overload it or something?"

Suddenly, Kurt's nervous, frightened demeanor shifted. He stood, calm and calculating, and said, "I'm afraid I cannot do that, Herr Reeves. You will drop the knife, you will get up, and you will come with us." He was joined by two Slen'darr workers, and he aimed the gun between my eyes. I got up.


End file.
